Accidentally On Purpose
by storiewriter
Summary: Acacia has a grand idea, and Hank and Willow follow along because it's a grand idea. Hank is having second thoughts about it. (Transcendence AU)


**A/N:** For Seiya234's birthday!

* * *

This had been a bad idea. This had been a really, really _really_ bad idea. Then again, Hank figured he should know by now that Acacia's plans tended to end in chaos more often or not.

Willow spun around on her desk chair, limbs akimbo and staring at the ceiling as though she were seeing something they weren't. She didn't blink. Her pupils didn't shrink or dilate when the light exposure was changed.

"This was a bad idea," Acacia moaned. She tugged at her hair and paced back and forth Willow's room. Willow smiled. It was a wide, loose, out-of-it smile that made Hank wish that they hadn't decided that seeing if Willow could get high off Yggdrasil was a good idea.

"This was an awful idea." Acacia marched over to the window to make sure it was still open for the third time. She pushed up her glasses, then twirled back and groaned.

Willow giggled at nothing and mumbled some jibberish in Sumerian. Hank sat down on the bed and put his head in his hands. "Why do I listen to you. Why do we listen to you. This always happens."

"Aaaah fuuuuuck." Marching over to the door, Acacia banged her head on it.

"I thought you didn't want Mom to hear us and find out." Hank dragged his hands down his face and eyed his younger-by-minutes sister. She spun around again, her glasses slightly askew and reeking of burned herbs.

Acacia threw her hands up in the air and slid down the door. "I don't! So how do we fix this? Is this even fixable?"

"We have to wait for it to wear off, I guess," Hank said. He folded his hands under his chin and looked at Willow, who showed no signs of slowing down.

Acacia kicked the floor twice and tugged her curly hair over her face. "She's been like this for _two hours_."

"She's not trying to climb out the window and fly anymore. I'd say that's a sign that it's wearing—Willow where are you going."

Willow babbled in Sumerian again, except Hank thought he could hear some bastardized English in there this time. She toppled off the chair and onto the floor and lay there for a good long moment, cheek smooshed against the carpet and butt in the air.

Acacia had pulled her hair out of her face and was watching Willow warily. The last time they'd taken their eyes off of her for more than ten seconds, she had climbed onto the ceiling fan and had to be removed before it broke; as it was, there were suspicious cracks in the plaster above them.

Willow tipped over slowly. When she fell again, cackled and reached out to something only she could see. Hank didn't think it was an aura of any kind.

"This is like the Smile Dip incident," Hank mused. "Except we didn't knowingly ingest the hallucinogenic that time."

Acacia stood and paced back and forth again. She smoothed down her shirt, tugged at the hem of her skirt, and started muttering again. For the fifth time, Hank heard the snatches of an improbable and wild-sounding plan.

"Maybe we should just tell Mom," Hank said. He watched Willow crawl towards the bed out of the corner of his eye, and positioned his feet so that she couldn't try to go under it. "She might know better what to do, what with Uncle Dipper and all."

Acacia whirled to face him, eyes wide. "NO. No."

"Why not?" Hank leaned over and pulled Willow's hand out of her mouth, where she was trying to chew on it. "We can spin it as an accident, and everything will be fine."

His sister laughed. It was strained and Hank started to wonder if he was the only sane one left in the room. "Hank. Since when has 'I accidentally got high' worked as an excuse? No, no, we have to solve this and keep anybody from—"

There was a knock on the door. They both froze, and Willow shoved her hand back in her mouth. "Kids? Is everything all right? You've been up here for hours."

Willow turned her head to the door, hand and all. After a moment, she mumbled something and tried to get up. Hank nearly tangled himself up in his own limbs in the haste to pull her back onto the ground.

Acacia whirled around and leaned against the doorframe. "Haha, yeah of course it is Mom! Nothing's happening, we're just hanging out! That's it! Nothing else!"

"Willow no we are not seeing Mom right now." Hank pulled her left hand away again, and grimaced at the rings of tooth-shaped imprints on the back of it.

Pupils blown, Willow stared straight at him. It was unnerving and creepy and Hank started to think twice about restraining her. Maybe he could just let Willow try to leave the room via the door; it was definitely safer than the window exit.

"Are you sure now." Mom had that lilt to her voice that meant she was currently wondering if she should find another way in. Acacia twisted around to look at Hank, and he grimaced back.

"Yeah! We're fine!" Acacia's voice rose about an octave. "Everything's fine! It's great! Thank you love you bye!"

"All right then!" Mom sing-songed, and Hank knew that this wasn't the end of it. The moment they heard footsteps on the stairs, Acacia pushed herself off the wall and paced over, then back.

"She didn't buy that at _all_ ," she moaned, biting down on her fingers. "What do we do? What are we going to do? At least Uncle Dipper isn't here, he'd blow a gasket."

Hank frowned, still wrapped around his younger sister. She was mouthing at his flannel sleeve, and his arm was starting to hurt from her teeth digging into the skin. . "Maybe we should just tell her it was an accident? That way she doesn't pop in and see us trying to hide Willow."

"That's a great idea. Let's hide Willow—quick, should we put her under the bed or in the closet?" Acacia crouched down to take their sister from Hank. "Personally, I think under the bed's going to be easi—"

There was a sharp noise in the air, and Hank looked over Acacia's shoulder to see Mom and Uncle Dipper there. Mom stepped away from Uncle Dipper and put her hands on her hips. She raised her eyebrow and started tapping her foot.

"—est. But the closet isn't a half-bad choice, you know."

"Acacia." Hank tilted his chin up behind her, and she froze. Slowly, Acacia turned around, the light from the window sliding across and off her glasses.

Uncle Dipper sniffed the air. A look of understanding spread across his face, and he wrinkled his nose.

"Hi, Mom," Acacia said, voice still upbeat. Hank could hear the litany of swearwords underneath, though.

Willow gave a muffled yell before chomping down on his arm, and Hank yelped. This was the last time, he swore. This was the last time he ever listened to one of Acacia's harebrained schemes.

"Well," Uncle Dipper said. "I guess we know now."

Yes they did. Hank whined as Willows incisors dug down. Yes they _did._


End file.
